Operation Phoenix
by Shadow Wolf Artist
Summary: Hydra's Project Insight was a failure, but their Operation Phoenix was not. In a devastating series of events, Tony and Steve are left to build a Resistance out of the ashes and take down Hydra once and for all. However, taking down their archenemy will end up involving much more than a couple of blasts to the head as Tony and Steve's screwed up pasts come back to haunt them.
1. Of Nightmares And Capsicles

**Summary  
** **Hydra's Project Insight was a failure, but their Operation Phoenix was not. In a devastating series of events, Tony and Steve are left to build a Resistance out of the ashes and take down Hydra once and for all. However, taking down their archenemy will end up involving much more than a couple of blasts to the head as Tony and Steve's screwed up pasts come back to haunt them. ((Rated T mainly for language and violence))**

 **Warnings  
** _ **Series:**_ **[it's a series of AUs; still needs a title]  
** _ **Series Number:**_ **1st  
** _ **Prequel:**_ **N/A  
** _ **Timeframe:**_ **Pre-AoU, Post-CA:TWS  
** _ **Ships:**_ **Clintasha, Pepperony  
** _ **AUish Aspects:**_ **Hydra!AU, Deaf!Clint, a bit of Dark/Psycho!Tony, Tony doesn't have his arc reactor removed**

 _ **Main:**_ _**Possible spoilers for Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.!**_ **This story will include some strong language and a fair amount of violence. There's also some panic attacks, nightmares,** _ **mentions of self-harm**_ **, but they're all usually pretty brief. Still,** _ **trigger warning**_ **nevertheless. Also, be prepared for a lot of whump, angst, and bromance. If any of these things are especially bad in a particular chapter, I'll put a specific warning saying so above said chapter.  
** _ **Sequel:**_ **N/A**

 **Disclaimer  
** **I do not own Marvel, Disney, or the Avengers. If I owned any of those things, I probably wouldn't be sitting here writing this xD.**

* * *

 **-Chapter 1: Of Nightmares and Capsicles-**

 _Author:_ Shadow Wolf Artist  
 _Editor:_ FanQueen on Fire

 _"THERE'S NOTHING HERE!" Tony hollered, shooting a repulsor blast at the wall. He slammed his armored fist into the ground. "ALL THAT WORK AND THERE'S NOTHING!"_

 _"Tony, it's okay," Steve said slowly, hiding his own frustration. "Take a deep breath."_

 _"All that work and it was a DEAD END. A DEAD FU-"_

"Cap doesn't like that kind of language," _Clint chuckled over the com. He, Natasha, and Bruce had all stayed back at the Tower monitoring things while they sent the team's current muscle, namely Steve and Tony (the Hulk was unnecessary, and Thor had yet to return from Asgard), to eliminate Operation Phoenix. According to their intel, the secret Hydra project had hardly developed and was in a low guard facility (so not to draw attention) disguised as a government science lab, so taking it out would be a cinch. Well, that same intel had led to an empty, rundown building in the middle of nowhere, and now everyone was a little frustrated; Tony was just the only one who let it show._

 _"I'm so done with all this bullshit," the billionaire seethed. "I'd like a legitimate lead just ONE TIME!"_

"Look, Stark, I get this is frustrating, but you need to cool your jets. Come back with Steve and we'll order a pizza or something," _Natasha commanded calmly._

 _"We have no idea what threat Operation Phoenix possesses, and we apparently don't have any valuable intel on the damn thing. This is hardly the time for pizza and de-stressing. Also, the last time I had pizza to 'de-stress,' my lifeline was ripped out of my chest and I almost died."_

"C'mon, Tony. It'll make you feel better," _Bruce chimed in._

"And we promise not to touch your arc reactor and try to kill you while you're pacified by pizza. Besides, I think Pepper is lonely," _Clint added. Somewhere in the background, Tony heard the redhead yell a disgruntled reply, but it was so muffled that the genius barely heard it. He smiled inwardly nevertheless. Steve turned to Tony, shrugging and gently cocking his head._

 _"They're right. Not every mission can be a success," the super soldier sighed, shifting from foot to foot._

 _"Not every mission has the fate of the world in the balance," Tony replied bitterly, his brief moment of sweetness lost._

 _"Oh come on. For all we know, Operation Phoenix is just some stupid Hydra experiment that's doomed to failure," Steve argued._

 _"Just like Project Insight was some stupid S.H.I.E.L.D. project that was meant to help the world. Look, Steve, this could be serious."_

 _"Or it could be nothing. Since when are you the serious one?"_

"Would you two just get a room already?" _Clint groaned over the com._ "Bicker on the way home. Nat's not ordering food until you two get your asses back to base."

 _"Fine. But I'm not sleeping until we find out what this whole Operation Phoenix is about, and stop it. Also, if you're ordering pizza, I want Hawaiian," Tony replied, starting up his thrusters._

 _That's when the screams started._

 _They filled the coms, and Tony nearly ripped his out as the high pitched noises assaulted his eardrums. "What's going on? What's happening?!" Steve cried, running to the small jet he had used to get to where Operation Phoenix had supposedly been. Tony was already in the air._

"The Tower- holy shit all of New York- wait what the- YOU LEAVE HER ALONE- NAT HELP-" _Clint's choppy voice sounded in Steve and Tony's earpieces, filled with fear and desperation. Then, silence. Muddled chaos could be heard in the background, but Clint's voice had gone dead._

 _"CLINT? BRUCE? NATASHA?! ARE YOU THERE?!" Tony yelled into his com. No response. "WHAT'S HAPPENING?! SOMEBODY ANSWER!"_

 _By the time the duo had gotten back to New York, they realized they were too late. Miles out, they could see that something was wrong, and as they got closer they saw that fire had engulfed the entire city, twisting spires of red and orange and yellow consuming everything in its path. It would've been beautiful had it not been so terrifying, so hellish. Like a scene straight from a nightmare, Tony watched as his entire universe was ripped apart, a sickening knot growing in his stomach as he shot to the Tower. The once magnificent home base for the Avengers and their companions (namely Pepper, and sometimes Rhodey) was nothing more than a burning torch, fire bursting through the windows and out the roof, devouring anything and everything it could. Somewhere in the back of his mind, though he realized it could've been J.A.R.V.I.S. or even Steve screeching in his ear, Tony knew what he was about to do was suicidal, but he couldn't stand by and watch his home simply be brought to the ground. He shot through an open window, trying desperately to quench the flames, screaming the names of his friends and teammates: Pepper, Bruce, Clint, Natasha-_ they were all still inside. _J.A.R.V.I.S. was hollering at him, alarms blaring, telling him to get the hell out of there. He was overheating at an alarming rate, and preliminary scans showed that this fire was nothing like anything the A.I. had ever seen before. It was a mutation, an actual hell, something that shouldn't exist. Pieces of Tony's suit were splitting apart and bursting off his body, results from the strange flames accompanied with all of the suit's systems shutting down in ways the genius didn't even think possible. Soon it was just him, in his cotton t-shirt and jeans and sneakers, running through the flames, trying desperately to find his comrades. Tony screamed until his voice cracked and broke, tears stinging his raw face as the salty water flooded his eyes and spilled over. No one. No one was there. Agony suddenly took hold of his hands and forearms as fire licked the genius's tender skin, burning and scarring his flesh. His vision was blurry, his body in crippling pain, and with one final cry for Pepper the billionaire fell to his knees, unable to get up. Heat seared his skin, and he tried to cry out but no sound left his dry throat. He was alone. He was going to die, and he was going to die alone._

 _Somewhere, through his last shreds of consciousness, Tony heard his name being yelled over and over, getting progressively closer to his limp form. He forced his head off the ground, and saw Steve standing over him, blue eyes blazing with fear. The super soldier grabbed him, and the genius went limp as Steve leaped from the burning building into the small jet, slamming it into gear and flying away from the devastation as fast as he could. The captain looked down at the destruction, praying for survivors that he might yet be able to save, and nearly vomited at what he saw. The delirious billionaire followed suit, and bile rose up in his throat, accompanied with a scream of pure defeat and anguish._

 _The fire had twisted and weaved and engulfed everything but certain spots in the pavement, creating an image that would be forever burned into the two men's minds. The destruction spelled out two words, words that would forever scar and torment the two lone survivors of the holocaust that had been wrought._

"Operation Phoenix."

* * *

Tony woke up in a cold sweat, shivers wracking his body, the nightmare still painfully fresh in his mind. He glanced over at Steve's portion of the room and saw that the super soldier was sleeping peacefully in his bed, his chest softly rising and falling. The genius fumbled out of bed, trying to get to his own room before he completely lost it as he so often did after such a vivid, hellish nightmare. Phantom agony engulfed his hands before he got there, and he gave a sharp gasp before he could stop himself. Instantly, the captain was on his feet _(damn your super soldier hearing)_ , running over to where the philanthropist had crumpled to the ground. He knelt down and wrapped his arms around Tony in the way that one does when their friend is experiencing a panic attack, trying desperately to calm the genius like a parent calming a frightened child. "Hey, it's over. There's no more fire, Tony. You aren't burning. You're in our room in the base, okay? Focus on that. Don't focus on the fire."

"Operation Phoenix," was all the genius could manage in reply. There were so many things he wanted to say (such as "Steve get your hands off me the Rebels think we're gay already" or "Dammit Rogers as much as I like being fondled you're just making it weird"), but panic had overridden all the logical parts of his brain, and he couldn't do anything but spit out those two forsaken words.

"Yeah, I know. Hydra is a pain in the ass. But you aren't there now, you aren't back in New York City, you're here in our base, in our room."

"You know, if a Rebel came in and saw this, the gay jokes would never end," Tony sputtered, finally regaining control of his mouth. His hands still refused to cooperate, and they were shaking madly, but at least they weren't burning with a phantom agony anymore. Laughing at the genius's crude joke, Steve took Tony's hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of the genius's shaking fists, trying to get them to stop trembling. The rough, scarred skin that passed under his thumbs was a sick, twisted reminder of the day that had ruined their lives, the day where they had found out what Operation Phoenix meant, the day where they had lost the world to Hydra.

The super soldier was pushed away as Tony got to his feet, brushing himself off with his still shaking fingers. "I'm fine, Rogers. Really." Steve opened his mouth to argue, but then their alarm went off, signifying that it was 05:30 and it was time to start the day. Groaning, the philanthropist stretched, stumbling out of Steve's room and across the hall into his own room. His charred fingers drummed on his arc reactor as he searched for his white cotton tank and loose shorts. In the middle of pulling on his pants, the genius heard a knock on his door, and he rolled his eyes; the knocking was the resident super soldier boasting the fact that he had finished changing first. Tying his sneakers, Tony pushed open his bedroom door and was greeted by a humorous snort from Steve.

"Ha! Beat you," he sneered.

"Shut up, asshole," the genius grumbled. Suddenly, before Steve could register what was happening, Tony took off sprinting down the hallway, nearly falling over as he took a sharp turn. The super soldier caught up easily and passed the philanthropist in their unspoken race toward the gym. By the time Tony got there, Steve had already started his push-ups.

"Rude. You're supposed to wait for me," the genius pouted, dropping down next to Steve and falling into rhythm with the captain's push-ups. The super soldier slowed his pace just a little bit so that Tony could keep up.

"You were taking too long," Steve chuckled. Tony stuck his tongue out at the captain in response, ignoring the fact that his hands and lower arms were starting to hurt, with actual pain this time. Push-ups had never really been good for his damaged hands, but he did them anyway to keep his strength up. Steve had repeatedly suggested physical therapy, and Tony had repeatedly replied by saying he was too busy, and "besides it's not like we have a physical therapist on staff."

"You should really go see one of the doctors, Stark," Steve said rather abruptly, completing push-up 136 and breaking the silence that had swallowed up the other 135. "I'm sure Simmons could help."

"No. My hands are just a painful reminder of the fires, and I can't imagine flaunting them is gonna do anyone any good," Tony replied, dropping into push-up 138.

"Everyone sees them when we go for our run," Steve argued, completing push-up 141, "and no one has freaked out yet."

"We're moving too fast," Tony chuckled. "No one is really up at this hour anyway." He took a deep breath. "Look, Rogers, I've got a solution all figured out; stop fretting. You know there's a reason I wear the gauntlets all the time."

"And everyone thinks it's because you're paranoid."

"Well, they aren't entirely wrong." Tony let out a huff as he completed push-up 150. His hands threatened to spasm, so he paused in his push-ups to let them do their thing before continuing the morning routine. "Steve, my hands shouldn't be what everyone is worrying about. We need to focus on more pressing matters, namely Hydra, Operation Phoenix, what the hell they used to burn the world down, so that we can develop something to stop it should they use it again. We've had 3 ½ years to work on this, Cap, and we have no idea what it is, where it came from, or when they plan on using it again. We don't even know where Hydra's base is, and you think we should be worried about my hands?" The genius paused to take a breath. "Do you know if Fitzsimmons has made any progress? On the fire, I mean."

Steve sighed, staying quiet a millisecond too long before answering _(Why do I feel like he's hiding something from me? Partnership isn't about keeping secrets, Spangles)_. "They have a lot of hypotheticals, but nothing's definite yet. They have incredibly limited samples and data to go off of, limited equipment to use, and they have the great majority of their Division-"

"Working on biological weapons for the Resistance yes I know. I'm kind of the one that told them to do that," the philanthropist interrupted, his tone almost bitter. Silence ensued, and it wasn't broken until they completed their 200 push-ups. Sitting back to take a brief rest, the duo took turns drinking from a single water bottle (after lots of teasing from the resident genius, seeing as in his rush to beat Tony changing, Steve had completely forgotten about his water bottle), and when they were done the super soldier dared to break the silence again.

"What have you got on your schedule today, Commander Stark?" he asked, starting their daily 200 curl-ups.

"I'm meeting with the Science Division in 2 hours, and by that I mean Fitzsimmons, teaching a robotics class at 16:00, and I believe Coulson wanted to speak with both of us after dinner. You?"

"May asked me to teach the gym classes today. She wanted some time to herself," Steve replied, pulling into curl-up 7. _183 to go._

After completing their curl-ups, and then their pull-ups, and then all the other various stretches and exercises they started their mornings with, the two Resistance leaders went for their morning run around the base. It was inside, of course, but seeing as only a select few got up at this hour the duo didn't have to worry about running into anyone but each other as they dashed down the halls. They ran in silence, sweat staining their shirts as they jogged down the hallways and corridors that made up the Resistance base. Steve's mind was on how he used to do runs like these with Sam, and Tony's mind was on Pepper and the team he had let burn. He often (read as: always) blamed himself for their deaths, seeing as if he hadn't been bickering with Steve he might have gotten back in time to save them, or even stop the fire entirely. Then they could've ordered pizza, 'de-stressed,' and saved the world like they always did. Why hadn't they been able to this time? Hydra had never bested them before, and the fact that they had only succeeded because Tony couldn't shut his damn mouth made the genius sick. And, he couldn't lock himself away in his lab like he always did when things went wrong because there was no lab. There was no Tower. Even if there was, he wouldn't be able to do the fine detailed work he had always done when he was stressed; his hands were ruined. He couldn't mourn, because he was busy running a Resistance to make Hydra pay for all they had done.

Tony didn't realize he was panicking again until Steve grabbed his hands and forcefully stopped their run. "Stark. Calm down."

"Sorry, Capsicle. It just isn't my day today, is it?" the genius sighed. Steve sighed in response, letting go of Tony's hands and waiting for the philanthropist to start running again. Tony so rarely used the 'Capsicle' nickname anymore, and whenever he used it it was to try and lighten the mood (it usually didn't work). The genius's hands had stopped trembling, and he started to run again, trying to shove all the thoughts about the fire from his mind. Steve resumed jogging as well, staying in stride with Tony instead of running ahead like he usually did.

After their run, the duo returned to their separate rooms to shower and get dressed. Tony checked the time, confirming that he still had a half hour before he was to meet with Fitzsimmons and the Science Division, and then proceeded to strip himself of his sweaty workout clothes and step into the shower. The cold water felt good against his warm skin, though he refused to let it touch his face, seeing as whenever it did he had a tendency to respond negatively (and, after being waterboarded with freezing, filthy water, who wouldn't?). He sharpened the edges of his goatee ("Just because the world is run by Hydra now and we're busy running a secret rebel organization doesn't mean I should abandon this sexy look, Steve"), combed his hair, and put on his more casual attire, which consisted of his gauntlets, camo cargo pants, a white t-shirt, a bulletproof black vest, and his uniform hat because he felt like it. On second thought, he decided to throw on his actual uniform so that he might actually look presentable when he met with the Science Division. He changed into navy blue pants and threw the matching jacket over his shirt and vest, then slipped into a pair of black boots and straightened his hat. Stepping out, he found with pleasure that he had beaten Steve in showering and changing, and the genius decided to wait outside of the captain's room until the super soldier was finished so that he could flaunt his victory face-to-face.

* * *

"Fitzsimmons! You wanted to see me?" Tony announced his presence boldly, stepping into the room exactly at 08:15, and everyone quickly turned and saluted. The genius waved his hand, telling them to put their hands down (his reason being that he was not worth saluting, and that they should save it for Steve or something), and made his way over to where the scientist duo was arguing over who should speak first. He watched with an amused detachment, reminded of how he and Bruce used to bicker over just about everything when they were working in the lab. After a few moments of hushed 'quarreling,' as Simmons liked to call it, the inseparable pair turned to face their commander. "Sorry for the sudden meeting, sir, but I think you would be interested in Fitz's theory as to what happened regarding the fires. Working off of such limited samples, this is just a hypothetical at this point, but it's the best we've got." She paused, passing the speaking off to Fitz.

"My theory, sir, is that large amounts of people, most likely Hydra devotees, acted as Japanese kamikazes from WWII, 'sacrificing themselves for the great good' and all that. What I'm alluding to is that these people formed a network or a system of some kind to optimize damage, and then when they were in position-"

"They lit themselves up." Tony finished, his voice scarcely above a whisper.

"Indeed, sir. This would explain how mass fires were able to go off all around the world in incredibly specific locations simultaneously," Simmons further explained, her expression grave. Fitz merely nodded.

"Do you...do you have any hard evidence that might prove this theory?" Tony asked, clearing his throat. The thought that people would willingly give up their lives for Hydra made him sick, and he really just wanted to go lay down for a while. Today just wasn't a great day for the worn down genius.

"Until we know what that fire was made of, we really can't prove any theories," Fitz replied. "And it's nothing like we've ever seen before." _Except it is. Kinda Sorta. Maybe. Bloody hell, you have orders, Leopold; stop doubting them and keep your mouth shut. And stop using Simmons's British mannerisms._

"We do have some good news!" Simmons said rather abruptly, quickly changing the depressing topic to a much more cheery subject. "I believe we've developed a system that is much more efficient for growing crops down here. If we may, sir, we'd like to show you!" the British scientist said rather excitedly. She and Fitz led the philanthropist through the Science Division laboratory, chattering on about the project along the way.

"Through studies of how different kinds of artificial light interact with plants-" Fitz started, but was quickly interrupted by a very excited Simmons.

"And water. We also studied how they interact differently with various types of water, including mineral water, purified water, rain water-"

"We also experimented with different types of soil!" Fitz threw in.

"We believe we, and by we I mean the Science Division, have found the perfect combination for growing underground crops that are healthier and tastier. They also grow quicker than the way we are currently growing crops-" Simmons continued.

"But we would like your approval before implementing our methods properly. Tell us if there's anything to fix, change, etcetera." Fitz then pushed open a door at the back of the lab, revealing a room full of plants at all stages in development. Simmons led Tony over to the healthiest, most well-developed looking plant. "This is the kind of growing we wish to implement, and this-" she paused to point at a plant that was about 2/3 as developed as the other one, and less-healthy looking, "is what we're growing now."

"We believe this system would also help grow the grass for the animals, and keep them healthier," Fitz added, coming up behind Tony and Simmons.

"Consider it done," Tony said, waving his hand in approval.

"Thank you, sir!" Simmons said gleefully. The commander gave a lopsided smile, before nodding and turning to walk out. The Science Division saluted him again as he walked out, including Fitzsimmons, and Tony merely shook his head, trying to wave their hands down.

"Please save the niceties for someone who appreciates them," he said, the door closing behind him.

He had hardly walked a few feet before a guard came up behind him, asking to speak with him. "Commander Stark, we have more people seeking refuge. They're in quarantine now, undergoing the standard process."

"Who?" Tony asked sharply. Every time he was approached with this kind of information, he prayed it was Rhodey. He hadn't yet been able to make contact with his long time best friend, and it concerned and worried him to no end. The lieutenant had been on a mission far from where any of the fires had taken place, and Tony clung to that, despite it having been 3 ½ years since he had last spoken to his Rhodey.

"Family of four: mother, father, and two twin 8-year-old daughters. No pets."

"How much of the process have they gone through?"

"It's been confirmed they aren't undercover Hydra operatives, and they're being medically treated now."

"Place of origin?"

"They were living in a town not far from here when Hydra decided to attack them. The Patrol found them 'camping' out in the woods."

"Any idea why Hydra decided to attack them?"

"No, sir. The family is still a little shaken. We believe the attack may have been to remind the world who's in charge."

"Yes, because it certainly needs a reminder," Tony growled sarcastically under his breath. "Sounds like something the bastards would do. Illnesses?"

"None."

"They're okay with me if those putting them through the procedure are okay with them. I'll have men start preparing a room. You are dismissed."

"Yes, sir," the combatant nodded, saluting and marching off. Tony waited until the guard had disappeared down the hall before slamming his armored fist into the wall.

"Dammit Rhodey. Where are you?" he asked softly to no one.

After having men go prepare a room for the incoming family, Tony went back to the Commanders' Quarters, as everyone called them, and flopped on the bed in his own room. He checked the clock, and saw that it was only roughly 9:00. He still had 3 hours until lunch, and then another 4 hours after that until he had to teach a class. Many people at the base thought that lazy days like these were like godsends to the commanders, who were usually crazy busy, but it was days like these that the philanthropist hated most. When he had things to do, he could keep his mind off of the more depressing and frightening thoughts that often plagued him while he slept. Not having anything to do was simply inviting them to invade his mind.

Tony pushed himself off of his bed and changed out of his uniform and back into his baggy, camo cargo pants, kicking off his shoes and shedding his jacket as he did so, leaving only the white t-shirt and the bulletproof vest. He collapsed back onto his bed, sighing loudly as he did so to fill the suffocating silence. He hadn't slept in this bed in forever, seeing as he always slept in the one he had put in Steve's room. The philanthropist pulled off his gauntlets, examining his burned hands as he held them above his head. "Not your fault, that's what Steve always says. Well, what does he know?"

Tony didn't realize he was waiting for a response to his softly spoken words until there wasn't one.

It had been 3 ½ years and he still couldn't get over the fact that J.A.R.V.I.S. wasn't there.

The A.I. wasn't commenting on Tony's ruffled shirt, wasn't trying to comfort him with his robotic concern, wasn't listing off the genius's various injuries and ways to treat them because _he wasn't there_. He had always managed to soothe Tony, had always managed to talk the philanthropist down off the cliff when he was losing it, but he wasn't there now. He had died in the fire with Pepper and Clint and Natasha and Bruce. Tony was alone, and it was killing him.

 **-To Be Continued-**

* * *

 **A/N:** **Whoop, here's the first chapter! How was it? A lot of introduction and exposition, I know. It was actually going to be a lot longer (as in I was going to stretch it to them meeting with Coulson after dinner), but I decided that no one would have the time or patience to read that in one sitting (myself included). Also, because I know someone is going to ask this, I DO NOT SHIP STONY. I'm a hardcore Pepperony shipper :D The two (jumping back to Steve and Tony) are incredibly close, yes, seeing as they've had pretty much nothing but each other for 3 ½ years, but I don't ship them. At all. I have nothing against people that do, but...just...no. Uhhhhh I'm probably forgetting something...  
Shout out to my friend FanQueen on Fire for editing this! ****(Also, according to her, Tony is a nugget)** **  
** _ **Stop being so suspicious, Steve. You too, Fitz.**_

 **~Shadow Wolf Artist**


	2. Paradise Lost

**WARNING:** _ **THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM NEAR THE BEGINNING.**_ **I've marked the area where it's mentioned by "SUGGESTION STARTS" and "SUGGESTION ENDS." In between those two headlines/titles is where it's discussed. You can skip over that part if it makes you uncomfortable, and start reading after "SUGGESTION ENDS."** **CONSIDER YOURSELVES WARNED.** **On a less serious note, Cap would disapprove of all the language in this chapter!**

* * *

 **-Chapter 2: Paradise Lost-**

 _Author:_ Shadow Wolf Artist  
 _Editor:_ FanQueen on Fire

 **SUGGESTION STARTS**

 _10:02._

Time crawled on for Tony Stark as he lay there in his room in the Resistance base. Despite the burning sensation in his hands, he remained perfectly still and despondent, suffering the pain in silence. It's what he deserved, after all.

Tony was no stranger to depression and PTSD. It had haunted him after his time in Afghanistan, stalked him when he was dying of palladium poisoning, had gotten worse with the battle of New York, and had intensified still when Pepper had nearly died in front of him because of Aldrich Killian _(no, that part wasn't Killian's fault; I'm the one who let her fall...I'm also the one who let her get kidnapped in the first place; god I'm awful)._ He had always coped by retreating to his lab and working himself half to death and/or drinking excessively. It was the only way he could avoid the nightmares, flashbacks, and everything else that threatened his vulnerable state. Hell, he could hardly take a shower without being reminded of that time he was waterboarded in Afghanistan. Pepper certainly helped; he could get more sleep when he was curled up against her, and while she didn't stop the nightmares entirely, she helped him go back to sleep when they did happen, and when she was on business trips she was willing to stay on the phone with him for as long as he needed to confirm that she was okay, that everyone was okay. Then there was J.A.R.V.I.S., who took care of him when Pepper wasn't there to do it. Insisting he got enough sleep, reminding him to eat, forcefully shutting off the monitors to get him to go to bed, and then calling Pepper when he needed it were just a few things the A.I. had done to care for the philanthropist. And he couldn't forget about Rhodey, whose mere presence reminded the genius that he mattered to someone. Pepper, J.A.R.V.I.S., and Rhodey had been the three people that had kept him from losing it.

But now he didn't have any of that, because two of those people were dead and the third one probably was too.

Tony had always found the tragedy bitterly ironic. Someone had once told him that it takes sadness to find happiness, noise to appreciate silence, and absence to value presence. He had disregarded the advice, seeing as he had suffered a whole hell of a lot and never felt happiness nor valued presence or silence. He had reasoned that it was because he was Tony Stark: he didn't need happiness, and silence and presence were both things he could have at any given moment and they shouldn't be appreciated anymore than the cup of coffee Pepper makes for him every morning.

However, now that he was in absence of all three, he understood what the saying meant.

It was awful.

In addition, he knew the last person he had any true emotional ties to was hiding something from him. The super soldier had never been good at lying, especially when it was Tony Stark he was lying to. Being the over-analytical genius he was, Tony had picked up on the little tell-tale signs that the captain exhibited whenever he lied: pausing for a millisecond too long, keeping eye contact too long, perfectly timed breathing (inhale for 4 seconds, hold for 1, exhale, wait for 2 seconds, repeat). Steve exhibited all of these whenever he talked to Tony about the fires; why would he hide something about Operation Phoenix from him? Tony, who, for once in his life, had nothing to go off, assumed it was because Steve secretly blamed him to some degree. That, or he simply didn't trust the genius enough to tell him whatever he was hiding.

Either way, Tony figured it was worth lighting a match over.

The pain in his hands returned as the flames danced, and after a few moments of burning agony the philanthropist blew out the match, tossing it back into the box. In the back of his mind, two voices fought over how to handle the situation: one part of him thought that the problem at hand had escalated beyond the point of return, while the other part wanted him to get help. Their little war in the back of his head was giving him a migraine. _Tell Steve about this. He can help._

 _ **No, he can't. 3 ½ years and he still doesn't trust me, apparently. Hell, I wouldn't even tell Pepper about this.**_

 _Perhaps not, but I know she would find out anyway, and by then I would be so beat-up that she would hate herself for not helping sooner...do I really want Steve to feel that way?_

 _ **...yes. He's hiding something from me, so it's only fair I hide stuff from him.**_

 _Ugh. I'm impossible._

Tony glared at the matchbox, scowling at the inanimate objects that rested inside of it.

Gingerly, he took out another match, lighting it and watching the fire dance dangerously in front of him. "I could really use one of your snarky comments right now," the genius muttered to the J.A.R.V.I.S. that wasn't there as heat seared his already scarred skin.

As if on cue, a knocking sounded on the door. Rapidly, the philanthropist blew out the match and crammed it back into the matchbox, which he promptly shoved under his mattress.

 **SUGGESTION ENDS**

Rolling onto his side, Tony pretended to be woken up by Steve as he gently pushed open the door. "Stark? You in here?"

"Yeah, and I would be sleeping too," the genius grumbled in response, doing an impressive job of pretending to be just waking up, "if it weren't for you meddling kids."

"Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, but I need help teaching the last gym class before lunch."

"Why? Can the great Captain America not handle unruly children?"

"No, the great Captain America needs someone to fight against in tae-kwon-do."

* * *

45 minutes and a couple of punches to the face later, Tony and Steve were waiting for everyone to get their lunch before taking some themselves. Considering how many people the underground base had to feed (they had developed a lot over 3 ½ years), they usually ate lunch more around 12:30 instead of 12:00, but neither of them really minded that much. The rationing system fed women and children first, then the men (putting those that had wives and families first), and then the Commanders. Their lunch meals primarily consisted of potatoes, beans, and bread, seeing as those three foods were a staple in the underground base. Dinner was usually corn, beans, and some kind of meat, and sometimes soup. Breakfast also usually contained some form of bean, as well as sometimes some very limited fruit for the women and children. Most of the food had been modified in some way, shape, or form to supply those eating it with more nutrients than they would've gotten eating the natural, organic counterparts. It wasn't the healthiest way to live, or the tastiest, but it was better than nothing, and it was certainly better than just scraping by like they would've had to do out and under Hydra's reign.

 _Like Rhodey probably is,_ Tony thought bitterly.

 _Like Bucky probably is,_ Steve thought just as bitterly.

The two finally stepped up and got their portions, giving nods of thanks to the various cooks that prepared the meals everyday. The cooks nodded in response, putting smiles on their faces that both Commanders knew didn't extended down to their hearts. No one was happy in the base, no matter what they said; they may be grateful that they were there instead of being tormented in the outside world by Hydra, but they weren't happy. They were trapped underground by fear, growing paler by the day. The Commanders themselves looked like ghosts, their hair and eyes sharply contrasting against their pale skin. The only people that ever had a chance of seeing the sun were those that went on Patrols, and even then, most Patrols went out at night. Some of the younger children couldn't remember what grass felt like, and some had had no experience with it at all. Those born in the base had no idea what the sun felt like, and everyone else was on the verge of simply forgetting. Hope was a foreign feeling among the people in the underground ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. base, and no one planned for tomorrow because no one knew for certain that there would _be_ a tomorrow. It was a truly miserable way to live.

Of course, it did have its brief moments of happiness. When someone was rescued from Hydra, when a child was born, when new discoveries were made, when Steve subtly reminded Tony that his existence was wanted.

 _Although at the moment he's doing a shit job of it._

The two ex-Avengers ate in a silence only interrupted by the scraping of utensils and chewing. Tony analyzed Steve's every move, looking for further proof that he was hiding something, or even a hint as to what he was hiding. Everyone in the base assumed that the two Commanders trusted each other unconditionally, and while Tony had believed in that idea for 3 ½ years it was starting to prove to be an incorrect statement. After a few minutes of close scrutinizing, Tony was able to conclude that Steve was being a rather good liar at the moment, and he let his eyes shift back to the lump of food he was currently devouring. Finishing it off in a matter of moments, he stood up and took care of his dishes before Steve had managed to get halfway through his own discolored lump. The genius's logic was that if he ate it fast enough, he could ignore the taste of the mash and get on with more important things; Steve didn't seem to share that logic. Perhaps the captain was used to the awful rations, having served during WWII, but Tony knew sure as hell that he would never get used to it.

"Hey," Steve called out, jogging to catch up to the philanthropist who had paused midstep to wait for the super soldier. "I could still use some help teaching the remaining gym classes." Tony took a breath, and in that inhale he shoved away the bitter tone that threatened his response.

"I'm actually going to go rest before my class at 16:00. I'm sure one of the ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agents would be willingly to spar with you. Maybe Trip."

"You feelin' alright?" Steve asked, trying to look Tony in the eye. "You don't sound too great. I also know for a fact that you would take any opportunity to beat me up." The genius shifted his gaze up to meet the captain's blue eyes, annoyed by the genuine concern in them.

"I'm feeling as fine as someone can knowing that all of their teammates are dead and that their last best friend is probably dead or dying."

"Look, you aren't the only one in that boat, Stark. We have to make the best of what we have-"

"Did I ask you for an army lecture? No. I gave you an answer and didn't ask for a response. So fuck off." _So much for not being bitter._ He turned away and tried to march back to his room, but Steve forcefully grabbed him by the shoulder, anger clouding his more reasonable judgment (which was to just let the philanthropist go and vent).

"Stop being so God damn selfish, Stark," he barked. "You aren't the only person in this base who lost someone." Tony whirled around to face the angry super soldier, his brown eyes ablaze with pure hatred. Hatred because Steve was hiding something. Hatred because the captain was so fucking _stupid_ sometimes.

"You think I don't know that, Rogers?" the genius spat in response. "Every time I look at someone in this base, I'm reminded of that very fact. Reminded that thousands are dead because I miscalculated, and that millions more are suffering. I fucking know I'm not the only one who lost someone, and you must be out of your goddamn mind if you think that I don't see that. In fact, it's all I can see." Tony jerked away from the captain and once again turned to stalk off, and for a few moments Steve was too stunned to stop him. He paused in his angry march, turning to look the super soldier dead in the eye. "Dead, Steve. Barnes. Rhodes. They're both dead." With that, he finally left.

"You don't know that!" Steve yelled after him, his defiant words echoing off the walls and resonating down the hallway. "You have no proof that either of them are dead! Don't say that!"

No response.

Not like Steve had been expecting one.

* * *

By the time 16:00 rolled around, Tony was no longer excited about teaching.

He had always taken a certain joy in teaching the youth population about science and technology. The way their faces lit up, the unique and innovative ways they all thought, their ever burning desire to learn and create; it all reminded Tony of what he must've been like when he was younger. Teaching the next generation always rejuvenated him, and it was one of the reasons he had asked Skye if he could teach in her place for a day. She had obliged, of course, but now the genius wanted nothing more than to take it back. He was still bitter over his confrontation with Steve (whom he had decided he would not talk to until further notice), and it was as though their argument had allowed for all of Tony's bottled up emotional shit to spill everywhere. It was a rather large, messy spill, and the genius was having a hard time mopping it up and putting it back in the bottle. He was particularly snappy, and while he would normally laugh along with them, he would not be able to survive the onslaught of gay jokes regarding him and the pissy super soldier that were bound to ensue the moment he walked into the youth tech room.

 _ **Pissy? Really? That's your best insult, Tony?**_

 _Shut up, me._

Shoving a smile onto his face, he marched into the youth tech room at exactly 16:00 (if there was one thing that this god awful experience had taught him, it was that being punctual was key; he had vowed that if this war with Hydra ever ended, he would never be late to a business meeting ever again), waving and bowing and trying his best to be his old bombastic self as the students began to clap. "Commander Stark! Where's Ms. Skye?"

"I gave her some time off," Tony replied, making motions for the students to quiet down at this point. "I'd like to teach for a day." _Actually I'd rather being doing anything but this, but that's besides the point._ "Though, guessing by your faces, you'd much rather be doing something other than sitting at a computer writing code. Am I right, or am I right?" Everyone nodded and collectively murmured their approvals. "Trust me, I know the feeling. Code can create some pretty impressive things, however. I used it to design the greatest A.I. ever created, and I'm sure if you had the tools I had had, you would be busy making some stuff that might come close to impressing me. And, that's saying something, seeing as nothing impresses me."

"Not even Commander Rogers?" a student called out. Tony was tempted to strangle the kid; he vividly remembered how many jokes this particular student had made the last time he had taught this class, and while they had amused him before they did nothing but piss him off now.

"When I say nothing I mean nothing," the philanthropist snapped in response. The student took Tony's defensive stance as further material to laugh at, and he opened his mouth to crack another joke. Before he could, however, Tony barked, "Listen, if all you want to do is make jokes, then you can leave. We are at war here, and if you're not willing to help then you can go out into the world above and let Hydra have you. I'm sure they'll let you crack all the gay jokes you want. This goes for every single one of you, got it?" A dead silence followed his cold, harsh words, and if the genius had been anyone less than Tony Stark he might have actually felt guilty about his anger-induced rant.

But, he was Tony Stark, so he could care less about the horrified faces of the students peering back at him. Obvious that he was not in the mood for joking, and that he was probably going to actually teach something for once, the young adults all shut up as Tony continued talking. "Now that that's out of the way-"

There was quite literally no worse time for Steve to walk in.

So, what did he do?

He walked in.

"Stark, we need to talk," the super soldier commanded, his voice stern and seemingly on the verge of angry. "Now."

"I'm trying to teach here, Rogers," the philanthropist hissed in response, not bothering to look at the captain.

"It's Coulson. He said he needs to meet with us. Now."

"He was going to talk with us after dinner. I'm. Busy."

"God dammit! For once in your life would you just listen to me?" Tony turned around then, his hands clenched into fists. Blue light managed to push through his armored fingers, illuminating the gauntlets dangerously.

"Commander, I can take the teaching from here," Skye interrupted, weaseling her way between the two arguing men. How she had known about the situation was inconsequential at the moment. "You really should go meet with Coulson. He doesn't often call abrupt meetings like this."

By this point, the students were both confused and concerned, shifting anxiously in their seats and talking in hushed whispers. They knew something was seriously wrong, and they knew that they would probably never know what was wrong. It had also come to their attention that Steve and Tony were on the verge of killing each other.

"Stay out of this, Skye," Tony warned, his voice softening just a bit as he acknowledged the ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. He loosened his stance and unclenched his fists, the blue light in his palms slowly dying. "Fine. Sorry, kids. I'll come in another time."

The apology was meaningless.

The duo walked out of the room in total silence, not even daring to look at each other. Steve strode purposefully, genuinely concerned about what Coulson had to say, while Tony followed a few steps behind due to a mere sense of obligation. _Left foot, right foot, inhale, exhale..._ The genius's usually busy mind was void of anything but these four simple commands. His chest ached, and he reached up to tap the arc reactor. Chest pains had become a part of his everyday life, which was to be expected considering the large hole in his sternum, but he supposed this was a different sort of pain. The sort of pain that had no true medical diagnosis or treatment. The sort of pain you feel when everything's been destroyed and you have no clue how to build it back up. The sort of pain that comes from being lost.

Steve held his head high and marched on despite the tragedies that plagued him because he knew no other way to cope. If he sat around and moped, there would be no one to run the Resistance (in the super soldier's eyes, Tony was hardly fit for running an entire covert operation by himself). He could lay down his shield, he could give up and let the fire that he saw each time he closed his eyes overwhelm him, but then what? Hydra wasn't going to just go away. They never had before, and now they had the entire fucking world. If they weren't going to give up, neither was he. He got out of bed every morning at 5:30 because of pure and unrelenting determination to _win_.

That was the difference between Stark and Rogers.

Tony went on because he felt as though he had no choice.

Steve went on because he saw that he had a choice, and he chose to make the right one.

"Stark, Rogers, sit down," Coulson commanded. He had no issue ordering the Commanders around; this was technically his base, after all. "We have a problem."

"Spit it out, soldier," Steve ordered, taking a seat across from Coulson. Tony took a seat to the right of the super soldier.

"Hydra kidnapped a Patrol," the ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agent stated.

For a few moments, no one did or said anything. Silence suffocated the three men, and finally the resident genius couldn't take it anymore.

"You're fucking kidding me, right." It wasn't a question; it was almost as though Tony demanded Coulson to denounce what he had just said.

"I don't kid, Commander Stark."

"How did they find us? Oh my god, this can't be happening." Tony ran his armored hand through his hair, collapsing against the back of the chair.

"It was one of the wider range Patrols," the ex-agent explained. "Hydra came out of nowhere and took them."

"Does Hydra know of our location?"

"As far as we know, no, they don't. But they can probably get a good guess now."

"Play the last transmissions we received from the Patrol," Tony commanded, ignoring the fact that such a demand was completely illogical. "If we could just get a voice of a Hydra agent, that's more information that we had yesterday. Do we have any visuals?"

"No, just audio," Coulson replied, proceeding to play the transmissions.

 _"Coulson, we detect several unknowns in the area," a voice whispered into the com. "Engage or retreat?"_

 _"How many? Can you tell whether or not they're hostile?" the ex-agent replied._

 _"A fairly large group, Sir. They appear to be hostile, going off of the mass amount of weaponry they possess."_

 _"Retreat. If they follow, do not go anywhere near the base. I repeat, if they follow, head as far away from the base as possible."_

 _"Understood, Sir. Retreating now." Silence ensues, until it is once again interrupted by a hoarse whisper. "Sir, they're tailing us. Do we engage?"_

 _"Do not engage. I repeat, do not engage."_

 _"Sir, they're speeding up."_

 _"Do not engage."_

 _"We are engaging."_

 _"I said do not engage!"_

 _"They took the first shot! We have no choice!" The crack of a gunshot can be heard over the com, along with a scream. "Brady is down! I repeat, Brady is down!" Screaming floods the com as the gunfire grows. "I-I've been hit! It's Hydra! Hydra-why the fuck is there fire-"_

Tony is visibly having trouble breathing at this point, and Steve looks over at the genius and then back at Coulson. "That's enough," he said sternly.

 _"WHO ARE YOU REPORTING TO?" a new voice screams. Someone lets loose a sharp cry of pain, and the comm crackles with static._

Tony's breathing hitched. "I said turn it off, Coulson," Steve demanded.

"That's where it ends," the ex-agent replied. "They cut communications to avoid being traced."

"Well, shit," Tony shuddered, still struggling to breathe. "We're fucked."

"Damn right we are," Steve agreed.

"If Hydra gets any closer everyone in this base-"

"Everyone in this base has already been jeopardized. Who knows what Hydra is going to do with the Patrol," Coulson interjected.

"They've been trained not to talk," Tony argued.

"What if Hydra has a truth serum? No amount of training will keep them from talking."

"So what do you suggest we do, Coulson? You aren't giving us many options," Steve snapped.

"Then we _make_ some options," Tony replied. "We need to attack. Now."

"That's what they're expecting, Stark. We can't just charge in guns blazing-" the captain started, but the genius cut him off.

"What's stopping us?"

"Lack of intel, weaponry, men, do you want me to continue?"

"There's also the fact that we aren't the only ones resisting Hydra," Coulson added.

"Excuse me, what?" Tony asked after a few moments.

"The reason I originally wanted to meet with you after dinner is because we have wind of another anti-Hydra organization. One that is much more open in their campaigning," the ex-agent continued. "They call themselves the 'Laborers of Hercules.'"

"While I see the mythological significance, it's kind of a lame name if you ask me," the resident genius complained.

"Agreed. They're a group-"

"Okay, is no one going to explain to me the mythological significance or whatever?" Steve asked.

"The second of Hercules's 12 labors was killing the Hydra," Tony explained curtly.

"Ah. Continue." _Let's pretend I know what that means._

"As I was saying, The Laborers of Hercules are an anti-Hydra group that's been openly fighting against Hydra. Because of this, they haven't amassed much in terms of men or weapons. Some attacks use kamikazes, other attacks are more strategic and planned out. All in all, they see a chance and they take it. That's about as far as our intel goes; we only have what we've been told by Patrols and those that have been rescued as of more recently."

"How does that interfere with our means of attacking?" Tony demanded.

"We have no idea how they'll react to us. While I'd like to think that the 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' rule applies, we really have no way of knowing. They're reckless and violent." Coulson paused, as if contemplating whether or not to continue.

"Yes?" Steve urged.

The ex-agent sighed. "Well, from what we can gather, the Laborers of Hercules don't rescue civilians like we do. They're majorly made up of soldiers from the militaries, navies, air forces, and the like from all across the world.

"Rhodes," Tony whispered softly. "Son of a bitch."

"We can't confirm anything, Stark, but we're pretty sure he is fighting with them, yes." He paused again. "Or was."

"Don't say that," the genius hissed. He stood up, his eyes going wide as it dawned on him. "And I can't go after him because if I do we're going to be discovered."

"Correct."

"Call back any Patrols that are out right now, and don't send any out until further notice."

"Yes, Sir," Coulson nodded, leaving to radio the Patrols. Steve strode from the room to tell the Patrols that were at base the news.

That left Tony.

Who was having a hard time breathing.

 **-To Be Continued-**

* * *

 **A/N:** **Wowie, another long filler chapter (though, by my standards, this one is actually pretty short). I swear the next one will have actual plot development (well, I mean this one sorta does). Several huge plot twists coming your way! I've got everything planned out. I'm just worried it'll all feel too rushed; I want to have a long story with an intricate plot, but at the same time I don't want half of it to just be filler. So, tell me what you think so far!  
Also, I plan to try and upload every Saturday.  
And, I would give a shout out to FanQueen on Fire for editing this, but she's a sinner (you'll understand what I mean in a minute). **

**FanQueen's Late Night Editing:** **Seeing as you've made it through both of my ridiculously long chapters, I believe a reward is in order. Whilst editing this particular chapter, FanQueen on Fire decided to vandalize two entire sections of my writing. One of them is completely random, while the other is an adaptation of a scene from this story that I'm sure you'll recognize.** _ **Feel free to read her deranged ideas, but here's a quick warning: strong language, suggestive themes, and ships that should never sail are all a part of her madness. Read at your own risk.  
**_ **Without further ado, I present you with** **FanQueen's Late Night Editing:**

 **1\. "actually, no, jk- no one was captured everyone's fine. GOD DAMN IT PUT THAT GUN AWAY IT WAS JUST A PRANK BRO. Just a prank. God, shut up Pepper you're spoiling the prank. Shit- HEY HEY HEY calm down. I'm good at pranks, see, it was just a really long elaborate prank. All these survivors? Actors. The food you ate? Drugged with pain pills. Gotta make it believable. Those burns aren't even real, just make-up. I SAID PUT THE GUN DOOOOOWN. Shit you're taking this hard. That's what you fucking get for putting vegan by-products in my goddamn taco. It's not funny. Geez. No I SWEAR ITS MAKE-UP! Look! Wait. WHat the fuck why won't it come off. Hold up. I've been informed these are real. shiT. PEPPER CONTROL YOUR MAN. STEVE. WHAT ABOUT AMERICA. STAHP. N0. Why 4 years of suffering for some 'stupid stunt?' WelLL TRY FOUR GODDAMN YEARS OF DIARRHEA CAUSE OF YOUR EXPIRED VEGAN SHIT. See? Justified. All Hail the Glow Cloud- Coulson out. waIIT. SHIT. WHO LOCKED THE DOOR. GUYS. GUyssss? FUck." -Couslon**

 **2.** _ **"They took the first shot of liquor! We have no choice but to drink!" People taking hard Shots can be heard over the com, along with a scream. "Brady is (going) down! I repeat, Brady is (going) down into history as a damn good stripper!" Screaming floods the com as the gunfire (what? What gunfire?) grows, followed by catcalls and wolf howls. What a party. "I-I've been hit! I've been hit with disco fever!"  
**_ **Tony is visibly having trouble breathing at this point, all he wanted to do was** _ **dance**_ **, and Steve looks over at the genius with heart eyes and then back at Coulson. "That's enough," he said sternly. He couldn't watch his hubby suffer- hearing about dancing just got him so riled up and honestly no one can handle him when he's in that mood.  
** _ **"WHO ARE YOU REPORTING TO?" a new voice screams. The voice sounded so impressed with the sick moves of the SHIELD team.  
**_ " _ **WHERE CAN I GET SOME LESSONS?"  
**_ **Tony's breathing hitched. "Coulson, turn it off," Steve demanded. He either needed a pole and an audience or some crack cocaine to lessen his anger.  
** **"That's where it ends, but our party is only just starting," the ex-stripper replied. "Turns out it was a surprise party. He wasn't hit with a bullet. He was hit with a confetti cannon. Brady didn't go down into death, Brady went** _ **down *wink wink***_ **if you know what I mean. Everyone is fine. We can go join them if you want. Those screams are of people having a killer time. Ha. Hahaha. Pun intended. Also they didn't engage. Thompson got** _ **engaged.**_ **A marriage is happening. Yay. See you at 10 for the reception!"**

 **FanQueen has no regrets.  
** **I have several.  
** **One of which is giving her the right to edit my document.  
** **Another is posting this on the internet.**

 **~Shadow Wolf Artist**


	3. I See Fire

**WARNING:** **Cap would disapprove of all the language in this chapter! There's also a bit more of Dark/Psycho!Tony at the end. You have been warned.**

* * *

 **-Chapter 3: I See Fire-**

 _Author:_ Shadow Wolf Artist  
 _Editor:_ FanQueen on Fire

 _Guilt._

Steve wasn't stupid. Despite popular belief, he wasn't oblivious to the fact that Tony was catching onto his deceit after roughly 2 years of lying through his teeth. Oh, sure, he pretended not to notice: he dodged Tony's questions with the same answers he always provided, ignored the way the philanthropist glowered at him when he thought that the captain wasn't looking, turned his head when the genius observed his every twitch. He could only assume that the two heavily accented scientists who happened to also know what the super soldier was hiding were sticking to that plan, too. As long as Tony didn't know _what_ they were hiding, it would be okay.

 _No, it won't._

Steve knew it would be too late to try and salvage any remaining ties he had with Tony, seeing as they both knew that Tony knew and now their relationship was nothing short of shit, so he decided to just continue keeping secrets from the genius and hope that in the long run Tony would understand.

 _He won't._

In all honesty, the only thing that the super soldier knew for certain was that he sure as hell felt guilty about lying to his closest friend since Bucky for 2 years.

Okay, maybe that wasn't the only thing.

There was also the fact that he wasn't the only one lying; Fitzsimmons had been sworn to secrecy, too, and while Steve hoped Tony would leave them alone, it remained in the back of his head that he probably wouldn't. The duo had been the ones to make the discovery, after all, and the super soldier knew first hand that the genius's anger had no bounds.

Every day, Steve woke up and tried to justify to himself the choice to lie.

 _You're saving people._

And every night he withdrew his justification.

 _You're killing him._

Tony no longer slept in the bed in Steve's room. The captain wasn't even sure that the genius slept at all anymore. After the day's activities had ended, Tony would retreat to his own personal quarters until 5:30 every morning, and whether or not he slept at all during that time was pure guesswork. It didn't help that Tony knew how to run on 3 hours of sleep like a normal human being, so the super soldier had no idea whether or not he should be concerned over Tony's erratic sleep schedule.

He was concerned anyway.

As Steve rolled out of bed at 5:30, he questioned whether or not he would even see Tony at the gym that morning. Last night's events had rattled the already fragile genius, and Steve wasn't sure how the self-destructive philanthropist would react. In fact, it would probably be better if he took the day off.

 _This is why I can't tell him. It'll break him._

 _But which part? The truth, or the fact that I lied?_

The weary captain made his way into the gym, routinely dropping to the floor to start his push-ups before realizing that there was another human present in the room.  
"You're late, Rogers," Tony huffed as he dropped into push-up god-knows-what.

"No, you're just uncharacteristically early," Steve replied, subconsciously falling into pattern with the resident genius. The super soldier noticed with distaste that Tony was already wearing his gauntlets, signaling that the genius was more than a little rattled from last night's events.

"Couldn't sleep," came the blunt reply. _Guess that answers that question._

"Rhodes is probably fine," the captain tried.

"Don't," Tony warned, his voice a low, defensive growl. He sat back, having decided that he really didn't want to do push-ups at the moment. Coughing, he ran a shaky hand through his hair, a nervous habit that he had picked up from Bruce. _**You know, when he was still alive? 10/10, Tony. He's dead because of you.**_

 _I have things to do other than wallow in self pity. There's a Patrol I need to get back, so if you could shut up that would be nice._

 _ **What do you mean 'you?' I'm you, and you're me. We're one in the same.**_

 _Goddammit, shut up and stop giving me cause for an existential crisis._

"I have a matter of great importance I need to discuss with you, Cap," Tony began awkwardly, forcing the two voices arguing in the back of his head to shut up. Inwardly, the captain swore, praying that the genius wasn't going to bring up what he thought he was going to bring up. _Give me some more time to work out a thorough and sensical lie, Stark. Please. God, I can't believe I'm asking for that. What happened to be an honest man through and through?_

"We need to get the Patrol back," the philanthropist continued, which caused Steve to inwardly sigh in relief. _Thank God. No, wait, not 'thank God.' I shouldn't be relieved._ "Having them in Hydra's hands is too great a threat, and, unlike them, we don't give our agents cyanide pills in case things go wrong."

"No." The simple, two letter word hurt so much to say that Steve wanted to take it back the minute he said it.

But, he couldn't.

If he did, many innocent people could die

"Steve, do you understand-"

"I understand completely. These soldiers knew what they signed up for, and sometimes you need to make sacrifices for the greater good."

"That's bullshit," Tony spat, suddenly angry. If Steve noticed the genius's increasing tendency to blow up in his face for [little or] no reason, he didn't say anything.

 _ **Maybe if you weren't being lied to by your last family member you would be less snappy.**_

 _Oh be quiet. He has a reason. Probably_

 _ **Uh huh. Sure.**_

Steve stopped in his push-ups and sat on the ground across from the pissed genius.

"It's them or everyone in this base. There are innocent people here, Stark."  
"You heard what Coulson said: everyone here is endangered already. We need to pick up the pace, Rogers, 'cause we're running out of time. It's been 3 ½ years and it's apparent from the recording we heard last night that Hydra is still employing fire, or whatever the hell that compound is, and while they're off doing that we still lack weapons, men, strategy, intel, a substance that can _stop_ the fire- Steve, Hydra isn't going to stop until we're dead, and if we don't attack now we will be very, very soon.

Steve sat silently as he took this in. He had always felt an underlying sense of urgency to launch an attack and take down Hydra, but rationality kept him calm and calculating. His mind had been constructed and harden through war, and he knew that now was not the time to strike. Not when they were at such a disadvantage.

 _But Tony can't know what that disadvantage is or he'll kill someone, and he'll probably kill the wrong man. So, how in the hell am I going to convince him it's a bad idea if I can't tell him why it's a bad idea?_

"You're damn right they won't stop until we're dead," the captain began, not really knowing where he was going with his statement. "They'll never stop; long after our corpses have rotted and the memories of who we were are forgotten they'll still be here, ruling over everyone. We're this world's last hope, and it's pretty damn crucial that we get this right the first time, because there won't be a second time. Once we attack, it's either we save the world or the world goes to shit forever. I'd like to charge in with a decent chance." _There's no way that's gonna work. Tony's too stubborn for that lame explanation to work._

"Then we gotta plan something and fast, and we need to make sure we know everything we possibly can to do that." _Do you catch my drift, Mr. I'm Lying Through My Fucking Teeth?_ "Can you have Fitzsimmons analyze the recording?"

"I don't see what that'll accomplish. We don't have the time or resources to compare that one Hydra voice to millions of others to find a match, not like that would give us anything anyway, and audio alone won't give us any details on the fire." _Crap, I'm slipping into that breathing pattern again._

"Then I'll just have the entire Division switch from biological weapons development to analyzing what we have on that compound," Tony replied smoothly. Softly, matter-of-factly and more to himself to the super soldier, the genius added, "I don't know why I didn't do that before." _**Steve's breathing switched. He's lying; but then again, that's nothing new, is it?**_

 _Shut up!_

"I do. It's because we need firepower, no pun intended, to fight Hydra with. Fitzsimmons are perfectly capable of running the tests themselves." _Tony, please just back off. You know I know you know, so please don't make this any harder for me than it already is._

"Obviously they aren't, or we would have results," the philanthropist snapped. "And we don't have any results yet, do we, Rogers?" _Yeah, that's right. I'm asking you to straight out lie to my fucking face._

"Point taken. I'll talk to the Division," the captain responded, awkwardly getting up and excusing himself from the conversation to go 'talk to the division.'

 _ **He knows you know, and yet he still lies to your face.**_

 _Shut your goddamn mouth._

 _ **He hates you. You have other options.**_

 _And I'm not going to consider any of them. Go away._

 _ **Oh, but you already have. That's why I exist.**_

 _Fuck off._

Seeing as Steve was now absent from the situation, Tony was free to talk to himself aloud so he wouldn't give himself a migraine.

But he didn't.

Instead, he decided to go meet with Coulson.

* * *

"What do you mean he knows?!" Simmons hissed angrily, throwing her hands in the air to emphasize her point.

"Perhaps I phrased that wrong. He doesn't know _what_ we're hiding, just that we're hiding something," Steve tried, but hell hath no wrath like a small British scientist. Or a Scottish one, for that matter.

"That's hardly better!" Fitz snapped, his voice hushed, yet still very vehement.

"I won't be able to keep this a secret knowing that he knows I know something he doesn't, Commander! As soon as he starts asking questions, I'll snap and spill everything out of pure guilt!" Simmons cried out. A nearby scientist turned and raised his eyebrow at her, and she instantly lowered her voice again so that it was hardly a whisper, blushing profusely. "I can't handle this anymore!

"You've done fine so far!" the super soldier protested.

"He's going to find out one way or another. We should just tell him," Fitz argued.

"What is keeping it a secret supposed to accomplish again?" Simmons added.

"You guys know as well as I do that Tony isn't- he's not the stablest man," Steve began.

"And how the bloody hell is this going to help?

"If he finds out, he'll go through as many innocent people as he needs to just to kill one man, and there's no guarantee he'll kill the right one," the captain continued. "A Stark's anger has no bounds. Tony won't care who he hurts until after he's hurt them, and I just want to keep everyone safe. He's already on edge, and if he finds out about this-"

"It'll just push him over," Fitz finished. The two heavily accented scientists sighed in unison.

"An order's an order, I suppose," Simmons said flatly, clearly exasperated.

"Alright, but I don't know how much longer you'll be able to hide this from him, Commander," Fitz agreed hesitantly. "He is one of the smartest people alive, after all."

* * *

"It doesn't take my genius mind to see that you think I'm crazy for wanting to do this."

Coulson sighed and sat back in his chair, eyeing Tony from across the table with an air of annoyance.

"It also doesn't take your genius mind to know that it _is_ crazy," the ex-agent replied. "You do realize what you're asking me to do, right? You're asking me to risk-"

"Can it; I already got that lecture from Rogers. Okay, this may be putting lives at risk, but in the end everyone will be free. Hydra will be gone, Coulson."

 _He actually thinks this is the right way to go. Fantastic._ "And if we fail? Then what, Stark?"

"We won't fail. I'm leading the charge, remember?

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," Coulson muttered under his breath. "I've forgotten how egotistical you can be. Your ego could kill everyone in this base, and I can't allow that."

"Look, if you're afraid of disappointing Rogers-

"I'm afraid of killing hundreds of people!" the ex-agent snapped.

"They're at risk already! There's no telling what Hydra will do to the Patrol to get them to talk-"

"They've been trained not to."

"They're been trained not to talk because they're expecting an extraction as soon as possible."

"No, they aren't. That Patrol was made of ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, and led by the best damn one there is, and they all know that extraction isn't always an option."

"Well we need to make it one," the genius snarled. "I'm not letting any more people die on my watch." Coulson leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and looking Tony dead in the eye.

"Listen up, _Commander Stark,_ " he spat, emphasizing the genius's title like it was a disease. "You say you don't want to let anyone else die because of your mistakes, and yet you're willing to risk the lives of children who have never seen the sun by launching an offensive attack that has about 0.24% of success. You're a damn hypocrite if I ever saw one, and your hypocrisy could kill children who have no recollection of the outside world. We are the last goddamn hope this world has, and you're telling me that you're willing to throw it all away to save ten goddamn soldiers. You think this is easy for me to say? My best friend was the leader of that Patrol, Stark. I heard her panic, heard her scream in agony through the comm, and the fact that I heard either of those things means that Hydra is a bigger threat than we thought, because nothing phases May like that. It kills me inside, but I have to say no. Melinda wouldn't want me to risk everyone in this base more than I already have. You're the smartest man in the world, why can't you see any of this?"

"Because everyone I ever loved is already dead. I care about everyone in this damn base, and I don't want them to meet the same face the love of my life met. I heard her screaming, burning, begging; I could practically smell her burnt flesh as it happened. This isn't just about the Patrol, Phil. Hydra has already reared its ugly head, and I think it's time we came out of hiding and reared our own. It's the only way we're ever going to end this war, and it's the only way we're ever going to save these people. The kidnapping of the Patrol has merely made this a game of sudden death, and to be victorious we need to strike first."

"We're trying, Tony. We've been trying for 3 ½ years," Coulson replied, his voice strained and soft.

"'Trying' isn't good enough! We need to start making serious progress. _Now._ We gotta attack at some point, and if it's not soon a lot of people are gonna die."

The ex-agent let out a long, exasperated sigh as he sat back in his chair. "I suppose I can talk with the soldiers and up the training, if that's what you want me to do. Start mass producing some of the weapons that the Science Division has stable and ready for use. I'm just concerned that this endeavor will take up too much of our already limited resources-" Coulson started to argue, but was interrupted as a guard entered the room.

"Commander Stark? May I speak with you in private? I hope I'm not interrupting anything important." The philanthropist in question stood up and excused himself from the table, waving his hand for the guard to meet him outside.

"Hold that thought, Agent. I'll be right back. Probably." Coulson grinned to himself as Tony left.

That was the first time he had called him 'Agent' in 3 ½ years.

Tony and the guard had hardly left the room before the guard started talking. "Sir, we found another woman, but-"

"How much of the process has she gone through?" Tony droned, having set himself on autopilot. They told him the same things, he asked the same questions, and every time the process went without a hitch. Why they even bothered to tell him anymore was beyond the genius.

"None of it, Sir. That's what I'm trying to tell you. She came with us willingly-

"You mean to say she didn't object to the blind folding and the whole 'we have to knock you out so you don't know where we're going' thing?"

"No resistance at all, Sir."

"That doesn't mean anything. There are plenty of people we've saved who were like that."

"Okay, fine, but she refuses to advance any farther with our process until she sees you.

"Have Steve do it. I'm busy."

"No, _you,_ Sir. Not you as a Commander, but you as Tony Stark."

"What the hell?" the genius snapped. "How the hell does she-"

"She said that if you were indeed here, I was to give you this. Said something about 12% of a moment."

Tony went pale (as if that was possible, considering that his natural skin tone was practically white) as he whirled around and snatched the object from the guard's hand, already pushing past and making his way down the network of hallways to get to the processing chambers. The weight of the object was familiar, but somehow different, and he paused to watch the mangled necklace dangle in front of his face. The chain was uneven, the metal clumping in some places and near snapping in others.

But the thing on the end of the chain.

That was something Tony could never forget.

The confused guard tried to keep up with the philanthropist as he took off at a sprint, clutching the small, dirty, ruby-red heart close to his chest as he ran. The small piece of shrapnel that hung from the heart was perfectly intact, slightly melted but distinguishable from a mile away.

"Sir?

"Where the fuck is she?"

"Down the hall to the right, Sir, but I don't think-"

"Shut up. Go tell Lieutenant Coulson that I'm gonna be longer that I thought."

"But Sir-"

"Stop testing me and just go!" the genius barked, his voice much harsher than the guard probably deserved. Meekly, the man retreated, following his orders and going to talk to Coulson while Tony proceed to burst into the processing room down the hall and to the right.

"Virginia," Tony exhaled softly, realizing that he had no oxygen left in his lungs. He had no breath left, and he was finding it hard to amend that by inhaling.

"Anthony," the redhead replied, leaping out of her chair and whirling around to face the stunned genius. Her beautifully long hair finished in rotation a second after the rest of her body did, and for a moment the two just stood there in complete disbelief that the other was alive, taking in the sight of each other.

Pepper's orange-red hair was incredibly long and slightly choppy in places, the extent of it reaching halfway down her back while the shortest part barely managed past her shoulder. Parts were singed, and the bandages that were wrapped around both her hands did a poor job of hiding the burns that scarred them. The left side of her face and shoulder were also burned, indicated by the discolored patches that mottled her skin. The ex-CEO was painfully thin, dirty, and she looked as though she might collapse right then and there.

Tony was freakishly pale, his skin a pasty, unnatural color that made Pepper's own pale skin look tan by comparison. His hair was a messy, ungroomed mass on his head, and his usually crisp goatee wasn't as defined as Pepper remembered. He was wearing gauntlets (or, what was left of them), hiding his ruined, scarred hands from the redhead. Adorned in what appeared to be a military uniform, Tony looked much more professional that he felt. The bags under his tired, brown eyes betrayed the crisp uniform, however, and Pepper knew he was on the verge of collapse.

"I suppose 3 ½ years hasn't really changed your sleeping habits," the ex-CEO started, but was quickly silenced as Tony wrapped his arms around her. The two leaned into each other, tears stinging their eyes, and the genius let them fall because _who fucking cares_.

Pepper was okay.

 _Pepper was okay._

"You're okay" were the only two words that Tony could form as he embraced the beautiful redhead whom he thought had been murdered by fire roughly 3 ½ years ago. "What- what happened? Why- are you- good god, you look awful. What happened?"

"Everything that could go wrong went wrong. The world is shit."

"Yeah, I got that part. But how...how did you survive? How did anyone survive?"

"As soon as fire exploded all around New York City, Hydra burst into the Tower and kidnapped us. Of course, they weren't very timely, so we're all burned in various places-"

"W-wait. Everyone? That means-"

"Clint, Bruce, Natasha, they were all kidnapped. I don't think they planned on me being there, but they kidnapped me anyway. They put us all into some sort of coma until things were sorted out, and when we woke up, we woke in the Tower. Those sons of bitches turned the Tower into their own personal Hydra base, a way of showing us that we were totally screwed.

"We woke up in some sort of lab, with each of us in our own little glass prison, with the exception of Bruce. I woke up just in time to see Hydra soldiers leading him away by some sort of chain hooked to a collar around his neck that prevented him from turning into the Hulk. It was like they were driving cattle. I...I haven't seen him since then.

"Then, Clint. Oh, god, _Clint_. For a while, we just sat in the cages. They fed us irregularly, making sure that we were alive but not caring for our comfort or our health. After a while, we forgot about Bruce and fell into a miserable routine where we woke up, probably ate something, then waited for sleep to claim us again. We all waited for the glorious day in which we wouldn't wake up; well, I did at least. Natasha was stone-faced the entire time, and I couldn't see Clint from where I was. But then they just...one day they came and they took Natasha. After a while, they brought her back, cursing in German before throwing her back in her cell. She looked miserable, but they weren't able to break her, so they took Clint instead, and they...they broke him. They turned him into a monster. He became one of _them._ " Pepper dug her face into Tony's shoulder, trying to get the memories to _stop_ , but suddenly she leaped back, hyperventilating as the oh so familiar heat began to build up under her skin.

"Pep," Tony gasped, not sure whether to take a step back or to hold her closer.

Extremis.

 _Extremis._

"They knew...they knew about Killian's experiments on me," she stammered, trying desperately to get the dangerous glow under control. "They knew I didn't blow up like so many others did when I was injected, so they assumed something about my structure bonded with the Extremis serum, which made me perfect for their experiments...every time it happens, I feel like I'm being scorched inside out." The ex-CEO forced back tears in what Tony assumed was both mental and physical pain. "I'm going to kill someone, Tony. I can't-"

"Take a deep breath, alright? I swear, it's going to be okay. I sw-" the genius stopped mid-sentence, mid-step, his eyes widening with realization and understanding. "He...he knew. _He knew about Extremis,_ " the philanthropist seethed.

 _ **What was this about a reason to keep a secret?**_

"Tony, what are you-" Pepper started, but was quickly interrupted as Steve burst into the room, having gotten wind of the ex-CEO's arrival.

The captain could not have chosen a worse time to enter.

Suddenly, he was slammed against the wall, vices wrapping around his throat and limiting his air supply. It took him a few moments to realize that those were Tony's gauntlets around his throat, and he choked for air while he tried to understand what the hell was going on.

"You knew, didn't you?" the genius hissed, tightening his grip on Steve and forcing back tears of betrayal. "This is what you've been hiding? Why the hell would you keep this from me?"

 _Pepper...oh God. Extremis. Oh good God what have I done?_ "I was afraid you'd hurt innocent people to exact your revenge," the captain managed, still struggling to breathe. "People who are just trying to keep their families safe. People who-" Steve choked as Tony tightened his grip still, the repulsors in his gauntlets glowing a dangerous blue.

 _Oh good god what am I doing? I'm going to kill him!_

 _ **Damn right you are! This is all his fault! Kill him!**_

"Their safety could've been ensured- _Pepper's_ safety could've been ensured- this is all your fucking fault. ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT, STEVE!" Steve's face was turning blue from a lack of oxygen, and while he had started off not wanting to hurt Tony, he realized he was going to have to if he wanted to survive. The super soldier slammed his fists against the genius's chest, trying to push him away so he could breathe, but _Tony didn't move._ Instead, he took one armored fist and punched Steve square in the face before wrapping it around his neck again. "DON'T GIVE ME THAT BULLSHIT! 3 ½ YEARS, STEVE! I HAD NOTHING BUT YOU FOR 3 ½ YEARS, AND YOU KNEW WHAT HAD KILLED OUR TEAMMATES AND YOU SAID _NOTHING!_ "

"Tony- this Extremis- it's not- it's much di-different than the o-one A.I.M. had- please I- I can ex-explain j-just-" Tony dug his armored fingers deeper into the super soldier's neck, chest heaving, taking all the breaths that Steve couldn't.

 _I don't want this. I don't want to kill him. WHY CAN'T I STOP-_

 _ **PEPPER MIGHT DIE BECAUSE OF HIM! THOUSANDS MIGHT DIE BECAUSE OF HIM! HE'S A MURDERER!**_

 _AND I WILL BE TOO IF I DON'T STOP THIS! PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD LET ME GO!_

 _ **THE ONLY ONE STOPPING YOU FROM SAVING HIM IS YOURSELF! I. AM. YOU!**_

"T-Tony I'm sorry-" Steve gasped, his eyes rolling up into his head. _He was going to die._

Suddenly, fire exploded in the genius's peripheral vision. "Tony!" The voice was shrill, panicked, and most certainly not Steve's. "Tony stop! You're going to kill him!"

 _Pepper._

His head whipped around to face the ex-CEO, only to find that the high tension between him and Steve had set her ablaze. The horrendous glow of Extremis lit up her skin, her face, her eyes. Oh, god, her eyes. They were scared and helpless because she had no idea how to control the ungodly curse that Hydra had forced upon her, and she was terrified that she was going to hurt someone. Something in the genius snapped, and he loosened his grip. Steve slid between his fingers and collapsed to the ground, chest heaving as he gasped for air to fill his lungs with much need oxygen.

And Tony just stood there, watching as the color slowly returned to the captain's face, his own face lit by the dangerous light of Pepper's emotions.

He had nearly killed a man in cold blood.

"Tony," Steve managed, staggering to his feet and trying to take the other man by the shoulder. Tony jerked away, whirling around to face the super soldier.

"Don't," he snapped, curling his hands into fists. "You lied to me. Every day you woke up and lied to my fucking face."

 _I could've killed him. I- he's-_

Tony needed to get out. His brain was malfunctioning, his mind was shutting down, and all he could see were the obnoxious purple bruises on Steve's neck that _he_ had put there. They stood out horrendously against the captain's pale skin, bruises that didn't belong anywhere but around his own throat- _fuck why can't I breathe-_ and suddenly everything was too bright and too loud even though it was absolutely silent and he needed to get away from whatever the hell was going on and take a goddamn breath because he was having trouble breathing.

So he did.

 **-To Be Continued-**

* * *

 **A/N:** **This chapter was a little shorter than the first two, and I apologize for that. I didn't want to drag it out** _ **too**_ **much. But, hey! We have plot development now! So, uh, I guess tell me whether or not this is trash xD I'm up for both positive criticism and negative criticism.**

 **FanQueen's Late Night Editing:** **Yes, this is becoming a thing. No, you cannot stop us.**

 **1\. He had nearly killed a man in cold blood. Or warm blood. He couldn't really tell cause blood is blood and he didn't want to go through the hassle of getting a thermometer to actually see if his blood was cold or not. He looked at his brooooo. His traitorous brooooo. He considered asking him to check and see if his blood was cold or not but then he decided nah, because his brooooo was a dick and he was a lying dick too, which made him worse. Tony decided he should stab him, but Pepper turned into Bambi and made sad deer noises at him, so he dropped the candlestick he was going to stab Steve with. Steve rose up and ascended into earth. His body hung from the ceiling while his head was stuck inside of it. It was a glorious sight. Pambi started her ritual sacrifice, cutting off Steve's foot and donating it to her Lord and Savior Bucky, king of the deer. She made strangled doe noises and tunneled into the earth below.  
** " **Troyyyy!"  
** **A booming voice came from overhead.  
** " **Stevella? My name is Tony."  
** " **My bad. Steve out."  
** **His body followed him through the ceiling and then Steveerella Pizzerella was gone forever.  
** " **Wowza."**

 **Pardon me while I go draw Pepper as Bambi.  
** **~Shadow Wolf Artist**


	4. Quick Hiatus Note

**A/N:** **Hey guys! You're probably wondering why I didn't upload today (or maybe you aren't wondering but whatever that's none of my business). The reason for that is that I've been very busy over the past few weeks, and I barely got chapter 3 done in time. I haven't had much time to write this week, and next week is going to be even busier than this one. In other words, I'm going on a short hiatus. I won't be able to upload another chapter today or next Saturday, but I should be able to start uploading again the Saturday after that. I'm not entirely sure.  
** **JUST KNOW THAT I AM** _ **NOT**_ **ABANDONING THIS STORY! I** _ **WILL**_ **FINISH IT!**

 **~Shadow Wolf Artist**


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